Still Alive!

This was a triumph! I'm making a note here: HUGE SUCCESS! It's hard to overstate my satisfaction! The bees (now that I'm done channeling GLADos ;-) are still alive and buzzing in BOTH our hives. One hive hasn't even touched the sugar we put out, while the other (see the picture?) has carved away the mountain and taken the newspaper with it. But they're still alive!

TRAPPED! With the Chickens, Part III

OK, what were the alternatives? Walls. Floor. Roof. Windows. Door. To get through the walls, he'd have to knock loose dozens of nails and whole sheets of plywood. The floor was even less likely--he was on the wrong side, he'd have to PULL nails, and there wasn't THAT much room under the coop. The roof would be hard to get any force applied, and more expensive to fix--new plywood, new tar paper, new shingles. And the windows were already too small. But the door... The latch was only held by 2 screws on the door side, and 3 on the latch. If he kicked the door, HARD, something HAD to give. 1... 2... 3! On the second kick, the door sprang open. He was free! He inspected the latch. Sure enough, the string was wrapped below the latch. And now the latch was bent, too. He inspected the door. Every screw on both parts of the latch had held. But the steel post, as thick as his pinky, was bent back 45 degrees. THAT impressed him. Either it was a very MANLY kick, or really WIMPY steel. Probably wimpy steel. "G'night, ladies!" he called to the chickens as he closed the door and leaned the ramp up against it. This one was going to have to go in the blog, no question about it. No question at all.

TRAPPED! With the Chickens, Part II

What had happened? Steve's best guess was that the string, which was several inches too long, had wrapped itself UNDER the latch. So, every time he pulled the string to lift the latch, he was pulling it down tighter. He looked around. The walls were all attached, although he supposed he COULD break through one, given time. The windows were jalousie-style, and much too small for him anyway. He was over 200 feet away from the house. Debbie wouldn't hear him shouting, although the dogs might... "What's that, Sadie? You say daddy is stuck in the chicken coop? And he's cold?! And his LEG is BROKEN and he needs a shot of INSULIN!?!" "Woof! Woof!" Too much to hope for. He was planning to put a wireless phone extension in the barn, but that wouldn't help him in the chicken coop. If he had his netbook or his PDA, he could try to email for help--he might be in range of the Wi-Fi, there weren't any OTHER networks around to interfere. And if he were a hen, he could lay eggs. He remembered that Debbie hadn't waved as he went out. Had she seen him go? He remembered how tired she looked--what if she went to bed? Worse yet, what if she woke up and couldn't FIND him? He knew exactly how she would react. She would quickly become convinced he had suffered a heart attack, and was laying somewhere, dead. Panic would ensue. He had to get out of this alone, and he had to do it soon.

TRAPPED! With The Chickens

"I'm going out to water the chickens and close the coop for the night," said Steve, walking toward the door with a 3-liter bottle of water and a flashlight in his hands. He waved an "I Love You" at Debbie, still sitting at the table after dinner. She didn't wave back, and Steve thought, "Boy, she looks tired. I hope she goes to bed early tonight--we could both use a long sleep."

He trudged through the yard, past the barn and into the darkness. He flicked on his flashlight, and let himself through the gate into the pen around the coop. The chooks were no fools--when the sun went down, they all trooped into the coop and huddled up for warmth. He stepped into the coop and pulled the door around behind himself.

He turned on the 100W bulb they had put in to help warm the coop at night, and turned off the flashlight. December 30, and there were 4 new eggs in the corner! These girls just wouldn't quit laying! 2 dozen eggs a week, even when the temperatures had been below freezing. He picked them up and put them in a plastic bag from his pocket.

Then Steve checked on the level of feed in the hanging feeder. He had filled it the day before, so there was no worry the birds were hungry, but it paid to keep an eye on the level. A couple times, the birds ate the bin dry and he and Debbie had to scramble to come up with short-term substitutes--bird seed, peanuts, sunflower seeds. Once they popped popcorn, which the chickens seemed to really enjoy.

Finally, he picked up the water bowl and turned to the door to empty it. The door had fully closed, but there was a string leading to the latch. He would just pull it, and...

Pull it and...

Now THAT was a problem. The door wasn't opening.

Steve began to laugh. Overconfidence had bitten him right on the keister, and it was his own fault. He had just locked himself into the chicken coop.

On the Third Day of Christmas...

Hope you all are warm and well! Here on Honeyhill Farm, the temperature is in the high 20's F, but the wind is around 30 with gusts. Our 1" of snow is DRIFTING, for heaven's sake! We have had to resort to an old-fashioned way of watering the chickens: we carry it out twice a day. They have an annoying habit of tipping over the bowl. We ran power from the barn to the coop via extension cords, and we have a 100W bulb we turn on at night. It's not much, but we have had fewer frozen water bowls and the chickens aren't all huddled together in the morning. We poured several pounds of sugar into each hive on the last day we had above 40F. Sometime around the end of this week, it is supposed to be in the 40's again, and we'll have to top them off. But both hives are still alive! Debbie received a spinning wheel for Christmas--an Ashford Traveller, second-hand but in wonderful condition, off Craigslist. Do yourself a favor and check out Craigslist. Debbie got me an Android PDA, which has been interesting because all the documentation is in Chinese. Today we are both a bit under the weather--fevers, aches, pains, and other unpleasant symptoms--but it seems to be a short-duration illness. Stay warm and happy!

Whatever Happened to Simple Prudence?

Yes, I admit I seem to have abandoned all three of my faithful readers. But I've been busy! In my last post (yes, April 2009), I mentioned my friend Debbie. Well, we got married in October. Then we bought a house. If you don't think that's enough to keep you busy for over a year and a half, I respectfully suggest that you've never done either. We have another blog at honeyhillfarm.blogspot.com. It's probably going to get the updates, or possibly I'll echo to both while we decide what each is for.

Catch-Up!

In the garden, I've added another square each of cornsalad and spring onions. The original squares seem to be growing, but VERY slowly.

I had to cover the garden last night--temps here in Crofton were heading down to 31F. Tonight is supposed to stay in the low 40's.

I also have a tray of tomatos and carrot seedlings going great guns.

I've been digging out the stones in the bed along the fence, as I said I was going to...I've pulled about 2 GALLONS of stones out of about 6 cubic feet of soil. That means the bed is about 20% (!) stones.

My friend Debbie picked up some compost and topsoil for me. If I can just FINISH "rocking" the tomato bed (hey, WEEDING is a verb for removing WEEDS... ;-) I'll be able to start building that soil, just in time to put in the tomatoes and peppers.

My Holy Saturday plans were put on hold by rain that didn't stop until about 4PM. So, instead of working on the garden, I was invited to see the movie "Monsters Vs. Aliens". It's a great movie for kids OVER 8--several younger children were distressed by some of the scenes. It's a marvelous pastiche of monster movie cliches, scrambled, diced, and remade into a touching story about being yourself.

So Easter Sunday, in between the two church services and Easter Dinner, I was doing all the stuff I wanted to do on Saturday.

And then I ate too much. My diet chart isn't looking as good as it should--it leveled out because of yesterday, and I expect I'll need some time to get it dropping again.

And now I've added yet ANOTHER draw on my time. Some friends and I, including Yseulte the mad harper, visited Killarney House in Davidsonville for St. Patrick's Day. I checked the website to see what kind of performers they usually have, and found a group called "T.I.P.S.C", the Traditional Irish Pub Singing Club. I suggested to Yseulte that they might want a harper and a whistler to add to their repertoire, and she took off! Now we are practicing with them, and it looks like we're going to be their opening act on 21 April!

Now, if we're going to be an opening act, we really needed a name. Yseulte says that if I'm getting overwhelmed, it's my own fault. I say she didn't need to take me SERIOUSLY--no one ever does!

And so was born "Mutual Blame Society"!

I can shift some time around, for about a month. I'm taking a sabbatical from singing with the choir--I just get so frustrated by the arrangements! The basses are supposed to sing what would be a reasonable tenor line, the tenors are set up on an alto line, the altos are supposed to sing soprano, and the sopranos--well, it hurts. When you show up for rehearsal ANGRY, it's time to take a break. But that means that Wednesdays will be free for awhile.

And we're finally getting close to the last day for frost in my zone. I'll be able to stop worrying about freezing my little veggies.

Cheers!